


Harmony

by imaginedandreal



Series: The Virtch and Moir Fluff Fix [5]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Babies, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, otherwise pure sweetness, use a magnifying glass to find the smut tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 23:21:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17796707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginedandreal/pseuds/imaginedandreal
Summary: Tessa and Scott navigate new roles as mother and father.





	Harmony

**Author's Note:**

> Happy belated Valentine’s Day! I have no idea why I just wrote almost 10k words about yet another baby VM situation, but here it is.  
> Btw, this is inspired by a comment on my fic “Splendor” where it was suggested I do a fic of Tessa’s POV of Scott with their baby. So, I tried here to do just that. Enjoy some sweetness and love in this little household!❤️

_Waaaahhhhhh!_

Tessa blinks her eyes open, then blurrily reaches towards her phone, groaning when the too-bright light hits her face. 2:55 am. Next to her, the coverlet is tossed back, and Scott’s place is empty. She only has to sit up in order to see where he is. Across the bedroom, of course, lifting Rosie from her bassinet.

“Hush, kiddo, Daddy’s right here. You’re hungry, aren’t you, Rosie-posie? It’s okay, I’ll give you to Mommy, don’t worry,” Scott’s voice is low and soothing, punctuated with little _shh_ sounds as he checks her diaper for trouble. Finding it okay, he takes Rosie into his arms, and approaches the bed. Her squalling seems to have settled down a bit, but she still is making tiny, insistent hungry squeaks. Scott chuckles and kisses her forehead tenderly.

Despite her tiredness and interrupted sleep, Tessa smiles. As ever, when Scott interacts with their two month-old daughter, they make the sweetest picture. Her handsome, caring, adoring husband holding their precious baby is a sight no ordinary pair of ovaries can probably see without exploding, she thinks amusedly. She holds out her arms and accepts Rosie from him, having opened her pajama top. The baby girl latches onto her without further ado. Scott gets back into bed, and sits up near them, gazing at their nursing daughter. His face doesn’t lose its loving smile.

“Thanks for getting her,” Tessa murmurs, careful not to disturb Rosie’s mealtime.

“Oh, T, what are you saying? I love doing that,” Scott says softly, reaching his hand out to touch his fingertips to the baby’s downy head. “I even kind of like waking up to tend to this little munchkin.”

“I can’t say I _like_ it, but this adorable face does make it a bit easier,” Tessa chuckles, and he smirks. Meanwhile, Rosie’s milk drinking slows, and her tiny eyelids flutter to a close, until the silky lashes rest on her cheeks. Once it’s visible that the child is deeply asleep again, Tessa slowly gets up and carefully lowers her back into the cradle.

Scott frowns slightly. “Tess, I could have taken her. I didn’t want you to get up more than needed,” he says apologetically, but she returns to give him a reassuring hug.

“I don’t mind it at all. Besides, this is a partnership, you know?” she gestures between them, and Scott grins.

“Then will you let me kiss you goodnight, partner?”

“You better,” she says, tilting her head enticingly. Their lips meet, and she again is unable to restrain her smile. Scott’s hands thread into her hair and she wraps her arms around her neck. When they pull apart, he is looking at her with as much tenderness as he has been looking at Rosie.

“I love you both so much,” he tells her, his voice laced with sincere feeling. She snuggles up to him when he lies back down. How she relishes hearing it, even though he has told her this exact phrase many times since Rosie was born - the first time being right after.

 

_Two months earlier_

Rose Tessa Jane Moir is born on her mother’s 31st birthday, almost to the hour of her own time of birth. Instead of a party and toasts and a dozen or so guests, Tessa has to celebrate in the delivery room, surrounded by the midwife and nurses who are telling her how to breathe and when to push. Scott is right there, stroking her hair, whispering words of comfort and love. He lets her grab his hand in whatever way she has to, trying not to visibly grimace at a particularly hard squeeze.

She opts for an epidural, nearly crying with gratitude when the midwife says she can have one. It was all well and fine to want a natural birth, but once the pains kick in, she begins cursing herself silently (and then herself, Scott, and the whole wide world, out loud). Oh, Scott. Looking at her with as much pain in his eyes as she had been feeling. Her tormented uterus sings her _thank you, about damn time_ when the drugs take effect.

And then the actual pushing starts and Tessa feels quite on the brink of insanity. Skating with cramps in her legs seems to be easy as pie compared to _this._

 _No shit, it’s called_ labor _for a reason,_ she thinks, groaning loudly on another push, just wanting to be done already. She still does experience the pressure of the pushes, epidural or not. Her cheeks feel wet, but that’s about number one thousand of her concerns. Scott looks ready to cry himself. She knows his damn empathetic nature.

“Just try pushing like you’re blowing out a hundred birthday candles,” he blurts out nervously. Tessa glares at him, with almost enough intensity to kill him. Almost. As if it weren’t enough that she feels like she has been pushing for a hundred _years_ , this guy goes and gives her advice! The best possible moment for comic relief!

“Easy for you to fucking say!” she grits out, hardly able to suck in a breath to get herself through yet another push. Scott immediately clamps his mouth shut, with a contrite expression, but everything is suddenly happening very quickly, and in a few minutes she is almost certain that the burden of the struggle has freed her, and then the midwife says, “There she is!” and lifts the baby up from between her legs.

A giggle slips out of Tessa, adrenaline mixed with relief, but their daughter’s loud cry drowns it out.

“Oh,” she whispers, blinking furiously to stop an onslaught of tears.

 _“Oh,”_ Scott breathes, in a choked-up voice that betrays the same.

“Want to cut the cord, Dad?” the midwife asks, all cheerful, and Scott nods fervently.

“Yes, sure! Um, I mean, I’ve never done that before, I don’t want to mess it up,” he laughs, from what sounds like delight with a hint of nerves. But he doesn’t mess up, of course, and soon enough, the cleaned, weighted, and measured newborn is placed onto Tessa’s chest.

She lowers her lips to kiss the little head right away. Most surprisingly of all, the cliché about forgetting the pain as soon as she touches her baby proves true - it was like it hardly even happened, she thinks, flooded with joy. She strokes her fingertips over every bit of the silky-soft skin, examines the grass blade-sized fingers and pea-sized toes, and wonders what color the dark blue, unfocused gaze will become.

She doesn’t even feel Scott quietly crying into her shoulder at first, but the sniffling makes her look to him with concern.

“Scott? What is it?”

He lifts his head to face her. His wet eyes contrast with his brilliant smile. “Thank you,” he says, in the same emotional voice. “I don’t know how to thank you, T. You’re the absolute best, you know that? I love you so much, just so, so _much_ ,” he chokes, wobbly with the tears.

Tessa gives him a misty smile and shakes her head. “Well, I couldn’t have done it without you. In more ways than one.”

Scott grins, through his emotional moment.

“Only the badass Virtch could go through all that and still joke right after,” he points out, leaning over himself to touch a gentle kiss to the baby’s forehead. Then, moves his face to Tessa’s and kisses her on the lips, conveying without words all the extent of his happiness. Yet, there is so much fire in this ‘grateful’ kiss that the nurses and midwife hide their smiles and leave the family to spend time in private.

Tessa pulls away first, and distinctly feels exhaustion catching up to her. She tries her best to situate herself comfortably in bed. Scott understands her at once, and gladly folds his arms around their tiny daughter, supporting her head with utmost care.

“What should we call her?” he says, never once moving his eyes from her now-sleeping face.

“Rose. Rosie as a nickname.” The name pops into Tessa’s mind completely at random. Over the course of the nine months, they had so many zealous discussions, both together and with the help of various family members, but never managed to come across _the_ name. Now, it arrives to her quite naturally. “She’s a real May rose in our family now,” Tessa adds, loving the name more and more.

Scott beams. “That’s beautiful.” He turns back to look at the baby. “What do you think, kiddo? Are you Rosie? Are you our little Rosie-posie?”

The tiny baby stretches in her sleep and gives a soft coo. Scott positively _glows_ , and Tessa feels herself grin so hard, it might light up half of Canada.

“Look at that, T! She likes her name! You like your name, eh, Rosie-posie? You do!”

His voice is delighted, and Tessa barely notices her joyful smile slip into much-needed sleep. The last thing she sees before closing her eyes is Scott’s sweet, quiet ‘My precious little flower’ to their child.

She wakes up some time later, not sure that she has recovered completely, but she’s at least somewhat refreshed. She cracks her eyes open lazily, curious to see - or rather, hear - what Scott is saying, as he appears to be chatting with Rosie.

“I’m so happy to finally see you and hold you, baby girl. Mommy and I had waited for you an entire nine months, can you believe that?”

Rosie cooes, sounding interested.

“We sure did. But I met your Mommy more than twenty years ago. Isn’t that something? I know, I can hardly believe it myself. I’m the luckiest man ever, to be her husband and now your Daddy.”

Through half-opened eyes, Tessa makes out Scott, sitting on the recovery ward couch with a swaddled Rosie nestled in his arms. It’s incredibly fascinating to witness him being in a ‘bubble’ with someone other than her, and it floors her that he looks at their daughter with even greater adoration than he does at her, in other times. Now and then, he gently fixes the blanket, or lowers his head to give Rosie a tiny kiss, but then he does the most heart-melting of gestures: he gives her his index finger to grasp when she sticks out her minuscule fist.

“I’ll always be there to hold your hand. To hold _you_ ,” he continues, once she lets go of him and he tucks her hand securely into her covers. “I promise you, Rosie. The only person I love as much as you is Mommy. You two are my best girls. Also, I hope you get her gorgeous green eyes. It’s okay if you won’t, but that would just be beautiful, wouldn’t it? And you look like her so much already. You have her hair, her ears, her eyebrows, her nose, even. Rosie-posie has mommy’s nosie,” Scott says in a silly, endeared voice, but gasps at the same time, noticing something else. “And her smile, too,” he remarks, the emotion trickling back into his tone.

“Of course she does, being Mommy’s little birthday thief,” Tessa speaks up, and Scott looks to her.

“Sorry I woke you up, T,” he says sheepishly.

“No big deal. I think I got enough sleep, for now. And I loved watching you two chat,” Tessa says warmly. Scott glances from her to Rosie, rocking the bundled-up newborn gently.

“I can’t believe how much love I can feel. I mean, I love you even more for this. For _her._ But you know? My heart is right inside that tiny hand I just held,” he confesses.

_Oh, if all the fans and interviewers heard._

Tessa’s laughter bubbles up from her throat.

“What?” he asks, grinning.

“You’ve broken your own record on sappiness and romcom-ness just now,” she giggles, propping herself up, to continue gazing at her two favorite people. “Question.”

“Go ahead.”

“What’s better - winning the Olympics or Rosie being born?”

“God, that is _so_ obvious,” Scott snorts, like he’s scandalized that she even _asked._ He holds a suspenseful pause, but a boyish twinkle appears in his eye. “The Olympics, duh!”

The unexpected quip makes Tessa cackle, and she has to muffle the sound against her pillow for a second. _“Scott!”_ she exclaims.

Her husband laughs and shakes his head. “Oh, T, what are those metal circles compared to this eighth wonder of the world? I’d literally give them away to the first person asking, in exchange for my amazing kiddo right here.”

“Man, are you lucky that I put up with your _quirky_ sense of humor,” she smirks, calming down from her laughter. But then, Rosie begins squirming around in her father’s arms, and her surprising sounds of discomfort grow louder.

“Oh no, kiddo,” Scott exclaims, bouncing her gently in an attempt to comfort her. “Oh, little angel, was that rude of me? I was just joking. Of course I didn’t mean that. I love you so much. I’m so sorry. Forgive your silly old dad,” he cajoles, now visibly regretting jesting about the Olympics - as if Rosie understood every word and got offended.

But Tessa senses what Rosie’s trying to get across, and it’s not that she thought Scott’s joke was off-color. His rocking and hushing her doesn’t work, and he looks at Tessa with an amount of alarm.

“Oh God, why is she crying? I honestly didn’t mean to make her feel bad with my dumb joke,” he says, annoyed at himself.

“Scott, she’s just hungry. It’s fine, it’s not because of the joke, she doesn’t know what you said, remember. Let me have her now, okay?” Tessa rolls her eyes a bit. Just then, a knock on the door announces the return of a nurse.

“Our little cutie is awake and wants to eat, huh?”

“See, two against one,” Tessa calls to Scott, and his smile widens, as he relinquishes (if not very willingly) his daughter to the nurse, who brings her over to Tessa. She shows the new mother how to go about nursing, and steps out, seeing that both she and the baby got the hang of it. Tessa reclines, gazing at the contentedly-sucking Rosie. Her heart swells to nearly a critical point, with the new kind of love that she now discovered.

“Yeah, back to jokes - what was that about pushing like blowing out birthday candles?”

Her grin at Scott is sly, and his cheeks redden. “I was so anxious and I felt so bad for not being able to help you in pain, that I just said the first thing that came into my head,” he says, shrugging his classic way. “But you were a warrior. An absolute fighter. I honestly haven’t seen anyone be so powerful and brave.”

His eyes grow soft, and he abandons the couch in favor of a chair nearer the bed, to be closer to them. Tessa sighs in contemplation, as much as she basks in his praise.

“I feel a bit like I let myself down,” she admits, shifting Rosie more comfortably against her chest.

Scott appears flabbergasted. “But...why?”

“I really planned a natural birth, but then...God, the pain knocked my socks off. I don’t know if that makes me sound like I chickened out, especially since I used to go through so much pains to skate in the past. Now, I can’t help feeling like a bit of a coward.”

Scott sits still closer and places a gentle palm under her cheek. “T, that’s completely not true. You’re the furthest thing away from a coward. God, seeing you do this? I’m damn sure I wouldn’t be able to, if I was in your place.”

“And then I said all this horrible stuff to you,” Tessa continues, cringing slightly. “You didn’t deserve that. It wasn’t your fault I was in pain.”

“If you think about it, though, it actually kind of was, but that doesn’t matter. What does is that you got through this so awesomely, and that Rosie is here.”

“Holding your hand made it bearable,” Tessa tells him, and he beams and leans to press his lips to her cheek.

“I love you so much, T. Not just for this, but for everything. I feel so utterly blessed that you chose to do this with me. To have a family with me. What did an idiot like me do to deserve that escapes me, but Tess -” His voice returns to shaky. “Thank you. It’s not enough, and I will never have enough words, but thank you.”

“And I’m thankful for _you_ ,” Tessa whispers, leaning over to him and cuddling Rosie, who has finished nursing and wants to be rocked to sleep.

“You know what I thought of? I want to suggest something, but please don’t say it’s a bad idea.”

Scott is gazing at the dozing baby again. “I think she should have your names as middle names. Tessa Jane.”

That makes Tessa’s heart skip a beat in earnest. “You really think so?”

“I want her to be named in honor of the best woman I know,” Scott proclaims, gently stroking Rosie’s fuzzy hair.

“That sounds adorable, I won’t lie. But what about your mom? For example? Doesn’t she deserve to have a granddaughter named after her?”

“My mom’s great, can’t argue, but she didn’t give birth to this little darling,” Scott argues playfully. “Besides, this is only the beginning. There can be another daughter later on.”

Tessa’s body does not appreciate the quip, even if her mouth laughs. _“Ow,_ Moir. What is _with_ you and timely jokes today? No other babies for a while, you big clown.” She’d elbow him, if it wasn’t for Rosie in her arms.

Scott laughs along. “Believe me, every other baby would just be icing on the cake. I already have everything I ever wanted right over here.” He hugs Tessa as best as he can, sideways, and sighs into her hair. “All my dreams came true...to a T.”

“Be glad I’m holding our daughter, otherwise I would smack you not only for the worst jokes, but for the worst pun ever,” she snorts, giving his cheekbone a kiss.

He grins winningly. “Happy birthday, T.”

Happy birthday to her, indeed.

 

_First night back home_

Scott insists that he be the tour guide for Rosie inside their house, two days later, when Tessa and the baby get the all-clear to go home.

Tessa chuckles fondly at that. “That’s sweet of you, but what’s the point? She doesn’t understand anything. She barely even knows who we are yet.”

“Do not interfere with father-daughter bonding, Tessa Moir,” Scott shakes a pretend-scolding finger at her, and takes Rosie out of her carrier. Tessa lets up, if only to watch him being incredibly adorable with their daughter.

“This is your home, Rosie,” he begins, holding her so she can see around the hallway and living room. “It’s where you are going to live with Mommy and Daddy. This is the living room. Pretty, isn’t it? Mommy’s house is so pretty, just like she is. She designed all this herself.”

Scott walks up to the mantle on which there is the framed photo of him and Tessa during their Mahler skate. “And that’s Mommy and I, skating. Your grandma Kate chose that one for Mommy’s house. She sure does have the best taste when it comes to photos, eh?” he laughs, holding out Rosie as if to show her the photo. “ _Really_ shows how much we love each other, I know.” Of course, he’s poking fun at their very _evocative_ facial expressions in the picture.

“Hey. Don’t drop suggestive hints in front of the child.”

“But Tess,” says Scott, plaintively, all exaggerated innocence, “you said that she doesn’t understand anything.”

Tessa shakes her head, full of exasperated humor, at how genuinely he insists on talking to the two day-old child. She is completely calm and peaceful in Scott’s arms. He moves on to the kitchen.

“This is the kitchen, also known as Mommy’s _least_ favorite room, in general,” he quips. Tessa sighs.

“Now you’re just being mean.”

“Well, I can’t lie to my own daughter right from the beginning of her life,” Scott grins, and she’s torn between smacking him on the arm and kissing him. She’s not one to argue that she’d been using the kitchen more for dance parties and ‘hanging out’ rather than its direct purpose.

“We’ll hold baking contests here, Rosie, and I’ll let you eat all the cookies and chocolate you want. And, we can both help Mommy when she cooks, too. I hope you won’t be picky enough to dislike poached eggs, because you might end up eating _a lot_ of those for breakfast, poor thing.”

Scott gives a soft yelp, interrupting himself, at a smack right below the waist. Tessa blinks, all nonchalance.

“You alright there?”

“Did you just _spank_ me? While I’m holding a baby?” His eyes are wide, and he looks like he’s holding back laughter. Rosie is as calm as ever, not paying attention to her parents’ horseplay.

“Says the guy who spanked _me_ in front of cameras at the Kiss&Cry in Korea,” Tessa tosses back, a devilish grin sneaking onto her face. “And yeah, you have no business scaring her with poached eggs, first of all. You have no business looking sexy as hell holding _our_ baby in your muscular arms, second of all,” she murmurs, lowering her voice on purpose.

(Scott swallows slowly, obviously getting her meaning. The way she says _our baby_ is having interesting effects on him. It’s the strangest thing, but the knowledge that they created a baby _together_ turns him on suddenly and thrillingly. That Tessa’s body isn’t just a beautiful combination of flesh and bone and muscle which allowed them them share victories and personal mutual enjoyment. This body of his mischievously smirking wife is a testament to her strength, grace, and utter brilliance).  

“Continue the excursion, tour guide. I have to step into the bathroom,” Tessa giggles like a teenager and leaves him with a kiss on the cheek.

She walks away, smiling. She loves the teasing and flirting, and hopes dearly that this milestone they now share will make that effervescent bond only stronger.

But also, the doctor-mandated six-weeks of no bedroom adventures are going to be six weeks longer than she likes. It takes her aback that now, of all times, her yearning for intimacy is so strong. And not just where sex and romance is concerned, but in all aspects. She is otherwise still so tired and raw from the birth that a tiny selfish part of her wants to just leave Rosie to Scott’s care and spend the next few weeks in blissful sleep. But Tessa knows that between the time of (deserved) rest, she will be more than eager to be getting to know this little person that is now the center of their life.

In the meantime, it’s not like they will be twiddling their thumbs. She is sure a newborn in the house will be an armful to deal with. Yet, she can’t bring himself to be anxious. She’s got Scott with her, already a stellar father, so she can’t be all that poorly prepared for all the joys and challenges of new parenthood.

 

_Later that evening_

The honor of changing Rosie’s first diaper at home also goes to Scott, at his request. Tessa doesn’t expect it to become the funniest and sweetest thing she’d ever witnessed him do (the bar for which will only increase with time).

“I need to film this. Our moms would love it!” she enthuses, grabbing her phone as Scott sets up the changing station and sings softly to Rosie, lying patiently on the table, but letting him know with occasional whines that she wants him to speed up. He puts her onto the changing table and winks.

“Lights, camera, action, T.”

When Tessa presses ‘record,’ Scott looks into the camera and clears his throat. “Good evening everyone, this is ‘Dapper Dads Change Diapers.’”

Tessa bursts out laughing, nearly dropping the phone. _This husband of mine,_ she thinks.

“We’re here today at the house of Tessa and Scott Moir, Olympic champions in ice dancing. I’m Scott, and I will be showing you guys today how to change a diaper, with the help of mine and Tessa’s daughter, Rose Tessa Jane.” He indicates her, and Tessa moves the camera to Rosie’s face, playing along, but still chuckling.

“Our daughter is the cutest baby in the whole world, judged by completely objective and accurate standards, by the way. Let me introduce you guys to her, she’s the best. Rosie, how are you today?”

Rosie blinks her already greenish eyes at the camera.  A pause, and she cooes.

“I’m great myself, thanks for asking. Now, let’s get you a brand-new, nice and pretty diaper! Whaddya say, kiddo? How’s this look?” Scott waves a clean diaper at her. Rosie cooes again, and waves her arms and legs in the air.

“Pretty cute, huh? Now, I’m gonna help you put this on, okay? And then you’ll be double adorable trouble. Let’s do this, kiddo,” he says, quickly divesting her of her old diaper. “Slam dunk!” he shouts, tossing it into the disposal box.

“So, Scott, tell our audience a bit about what’s the most important in helping a baby change a diaper, as you so cutely put it,” Tessa adapts the role of behind-the-camera narrator.

“Well, first you have to get your kiddo nice and squeaky clean. Then, you put a little bit of baby lotion, because this is 2020, and a rashless kiddo is a happy kiddo. Finally, you take a diaper, place it under that ridiculously cute baby butt like so, and just fasten it on the sides. Now all you need to do is to put some adorable clothes on the kiddo, and you’re all set.”

Scott deftly does all the narrated steps in seconds. Tessa is actually impressed at his skill, though she knows that he must have gotten practice from babysitting the nieces and nephews.

“Ta-da! Happy baby in a new diaper just got fifty times cuter!” Scott raises Rosie carefully, cuddling her close and not a little proud of himself. Tessa is grinning, ready to end the recording, but Scott winks at her again.

“But hold on, let me ask for the opinion of the fairest judge of them all - Miss Rosie, how do you think your old guy did? Do you like your new diaper?”

Rosie looks right at him, for a few beats. Then she cooes a few times, clearly content.

“It’s a yes from Rosie! Yayyy!” His voice grows silly and playful, and he kisses the baby girl with a loud _mwah._

Tessa pockets her phone, and walks up to hug him and lay her head on his shoulder. “And it’s a yes from me too,” she whispers.

 

_Four weeks_

She surprises both of them when they settle into bed that night and she leans over and reaches for Scott and kisses him deeply. It’s because she’s stricken by desire, so irrationally, when she should really be feeling taxed by taking care of a baby 24/7 for the first time. But female postpartum hormones can’t be all that rational, and she sinks into the kisses that Scott reciprocates enthusiastically, until she throws a leg over his hip and their lower halves are pressed up together, and he groans with longing when they separate for air.

“T…” His eyes are burning, pure lust. “The doctor said to wait.”

Tessa huffs in frustration. Her fists are balled up full of his t-shirt. “Why are _you_ suddenly the rational one right here?” She knows at what cost these words of caution come to him, since his obvious arousal under his boxer briefs is pressing up against her.

His hazel irises grow softer, like blazing afternoon in favor of a sunset. “I don’t want to hurt you or make you uncomfortable, so it’s best to listen to what she said.” He’s stroking her back under her pajama top, and she can’t decide if it soothes her desire or stokes it.

“I know you don’t,” she reassures him, “and you could never. This just kind of is harder than I thought.”

A short laugh from him. “You’re telling _me.”_

“Aren’t you supposed to not make innuendoes, if you want to help me wait?”

Scott grins and presses a few languid kisses to her mouth before speaking. She’s breathless, and she isn’t sure how she is supposed to survive two more weeks.

“I thought flirting is necessary for a healthy marriage.”

“Not if that marriage is between _business partners,”_ Tessa teases, letting her fingers play in his hair.

“I don’t get you, Virtch. First, you come onto me with making out, and then you call us business partners.”

“That never stopped us from making out anyway,” she whispers, and then her lips are on his again, and she’s wallowing in the sensation. God, how lucky is she to have these amazing, heart-fluttering kisses with Scott; how lucky is she, a married mother, to be attracted to him like a girl to her first fling, and even more so, now that she knows how much bigger still that golden heart could be…

His tongue is doing a particularly-liked licking against her lower lip and she purrs, forgetting herself for a second, when a relatively quiet but insistent kittenish whimper cuts through the moment. She can’t help but laugh a bit at their simultaneous groan of disappointment, but nothing to it - her daughter comes first. Scott makes an amused, clicking sound, as if to say, _that’s how it is now._ He gets out of bed and brings Rosie over for nursing. For the next few minutes, it’s quiet as the mother and child are engrossed in the action, but then Tessa moves her gaze to her husband, and, from the soft expression on his face, she knows he’s preparing to say something unbelievably sappy.

“You know, if Michelangelo or whoever it was that painted Madonnas lived right now, you two would be so in demand as subjects.”

It makes her blush and smile, eyes lowering back to Rosie’s face. She feels a gentle touch of a hand on her knee.

“I’m serious. You’re always gorgeous, but motherhood made you breathtaking,” he reiterates, looking wholly enamored. “Sometimes I think my eyes aren’t worthy to see so much beauty on the regular.”

They share a laugh, but Tessa grows thoughtful. “I’m not sure if I always _feel_ gorgeous these days. I’m tired, sleep-deprived, and basically only a food machine.”

She knows that Scott knows that she’s not saying that to whine or complain, when Rosie has been a blessing of a baby, especially compared to the stories of their mothers’ infants, including themselves. She only wants to share her feelings with the person she could trust the most and not fear judgment. Handing the baby to Scott, she takes a few sips of water and buttons herself back up.

“I hear you, but it won’t always be a challenge. We’re getting good at this, Tess. And you’re being one badass mother, and that’s also beautiful.”

“You’re not too bad yourself, Moir,” she says, once again enjoying the sight of Scott cuddling Rosie. “That’s my hot dad aesthetic right there,” she draws an imaginary circle around them and winks.

“God, you’re always objectifying me,” Scott shakes his head. “Your mom, Rosie, is silly. But I love the hell -”

“Scott! Not in front of the child!”

“-okay, the _heck_ out of her. Even if she keeps feeling me up with her eyes at the most inconvenient moments and censors what I say.”

“Congratulations, you have a wife,” Tessa jokes, and Scott makes a fair effort at muffling his laughter to not disturb the almost-sleeping Rosie.

“I do. And I can’t love her more than I do already,” he says, in quiet joy, as she settles against him once more - to fall asleep.

 

_Six weeks_

They are slowly getting into a schedule with Rosie. The new parenting system that they are runs more or less smoothly now, and they share all the changing, bathing, and cuddling. Even during the feeding, Scott is right there beside Tessa, doing as much as is needed of him to take care of their daughter. Rosie slowly learns to smile and interact with them more consciously, and they rejoice in every new expression and sound and movement from their baby girl.

Scott’s paternity leave comes to an end, however. He goes back to his coaching job with regret that morning, ruefully watching Tessa nurse Rosie.

“I feel so bad to leave you alone,” he says, quietly. He’s fully dressed, but can’t help but stay with his family a few moments longer. So he sits near the rocking chair in Rosie’s future nursery and just looks at them. He’d gotten so into the new father role that going back to coaching must be hard for him, Tessa thinks.

“It’s okay,” she reassures, looking at him gently. “You’ll be home again before we all know it.”

“But I’ll _miss you_ ,” he says plaintively and gathers Rosie into his arms, while Tessa buttons up.

She looks at him, so full of affection at his heart on his sleeve. “And we’ll miss you,” she murmurs, leaning over to softly kiss him.

 

The day passes for Tessa with a quiet, not unpleasant blur of taking care of her sweet infant, but she is eager to have Scott back home again. Sure enough, she feels as if her tiredness eases up already when the door clicks open at six o’clock.

“T?” Scott enters the nursery cautiously and quietly, not wanting to disturb Rosie if she is napping at the moment. But the child is happily cooing something from her mom’s embrace, punctuated by waving her little hands. “How did your day go, girls?” he asks, more loudly, after he sees that Rosie isn’t asleep.

“Pretty well,” Tessa admits, leaning up to kiss him as he sits down near her on the bed. “But it’s even better now that you’re back.”

She’s aware that she must look like a cliche of the tired and slightly frazzled new mother, what with her messy hair, half fallen out of its bun, her old t-shirt with a conspicuous spit-up stain that she barely managed to mop up, and the rings around her eyes. And yet Scott still looks at her with that affectionate smile that’s his trademark - she might as well be dressed up like she was at, say, Canada’s Walk of Fame. That, to her, never stops being an incredible feeling.

“Everything at the rink okay?” she inquires in reply, once she’s given Rosie to her eagerly awaiting dad. As she redoes her plain hairstyle, she catches her own reflection in the mirror, and it only reminds her of how tired she truly is, and how much she wants a shower. But it seems only fair to give Scott some attention as well, at least for a few minutes.

“Yep, it’s going great,” he confirms, gazing now at Rosie with a still bigger smile, “everyone was just wondering when they’ll get to meet my kiddo.” He leans to kiss his daughter’s nose, and she gives a smile in return, making a soft sound of humor mixed with contentment. “My little one,” he carries on, giving her a peck on one cheek. Rosie squawks with joy. “My darling baby.” A kiss to her other cheek makes the baby girl squeal shrilly, in something akin to laughter. Of course, that triggers Tessa’s touched grin at the scene.

“Soon,” she promises. “As soon as possible, we’ll definitely introduce Rosie to the place where it all began.”

“I still can’t believe that we owe all this -” Scott gestures around them three, “- to _frozen water.”_ At that, Tessa bursts out laughing, joining in his amusement. She sighs.

“You know, as awesome as frozen water has been in the making of my life, I’m sort of dreaming about hot water right now.” When Scott raises a questioning eyebrow, looking up from Rosie’s face, she clarifies, “I want to dash into the shower really fast. Is that okay? Or do you prefer that I wait and let you -”

“No, of course I don’t mind, come on, T,” he shakes his head. “Plus, I want to hang out with my favorite girl right here,” he gives Rosie a sweet kiss of her tiny hand. Then, he winks up at his wife.

Tessa gasps with exaggerated pretend shock. “I’m not your favorite girl anymore?” But she’s laughing too hard to care, and, leaving him off with a quick kiss of their own, she gathers a clean lounge outfit and her other showering supplies and walks into the master bathroom.

Even if the shower is efficient, because it has to be, she basks in the warmth and relaxation that the water stream brings, but only for about ten minutes, before…

An escalating cry of clear hunger echoes from the bedroom into the bathroom, right as Tessa starts shampooing her hair. With a groan, she tries to speed the action up and get to rinsing as quickly as possible, skipping the conditioner. Of course, Rosie would decide that she needs her dinner right at this moment. At least she had the good idea to wait until Scott would be home, to take a shower, so he’d help manage it. She can’t hear how he’s comforting and trying to distract their daughter, but, from her continuing squalls, it’s not very successful. Having gotten most of the soap off her body, Tessa hops out of the shower cabin, and doesn’t bother with clothes, twisting her towel around herself instead. But, as suddenly as she heard it, she can’t hear any more crying.

When she opens the door, it’s to the picture of Scott _shh, shh, shh-_ ing _,_ pacing back and forth with a mostly-calm Rosie in his arms, but the astonishing thing is that she looks to be wrapped in Tessa’s terry cloth bathrobe, one she doesn’t wear now, seeing as it’s high summer. The baby girl (and she is a daddy’s girl, why not admit it) looks perfectly calmed now, by nothing short of a miracle, and Scott’s ingenious solution. For that alone, Tessa is overcome with gratitude and endearment at the two of them.

“Sorry about that,” she murmurs, walking up to take Rosie from him. “I don’t know how I’d manage if you weren’t here while I was showering. I know that if we had her bottle-fed, it would be different…”

“It’s okay,” Scott reassures her, sitting down on the bed next to her. “I checked her diaper, so I figured she really was hungry.” Tessa sighs, but can’t keep from smiling at him, and then at their baby girl. She unknots her towel and lets it pool at her waist. She catches Scott’s smirk, and sighs again.  
“Don’t mind the free show, by the way. I kind of rushed to get here and didn’t care about dressing.”

“T, I’m your husband. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen your boobs already,” he says, swinging an arm around her shoulder. She feels his breath tickle her ear, even through her damp hair. “And they’re not a bad sight at all, nor anything else either.” A kiss to her neck makes her prickle with goosebumps.

“Don’t say ‘boobs’ around innocent ears,” she pretends to chide him, earning a chuckle. But his easy admiration of her sends a warmth all over her limbs. How does he manage to love the sight of her body, now that it’s so different from that athletic frame of the years before?

“Also, great thinking on your feet with the bathrobe. Pretty clever.” From loving, Scott’s smile becomes bashfully proud. He shrugs.

“I wasn’t sure it would work, actually. I came up with it back when I would first babysit for Danny or Charlie, and it was a hit or miss, to be honest. But Rosie-posie has a very keen little nosie for her mom’s smell, it looks like.”

“I wonder where she gets that from, seeing as her dad has always been sniffing at me like a golden retriever,” Tessa teases, meeting Scott’s playful kiss with a smile, but only until Rosie herself speaks up with a whimper, not appreciating her parents’ PDA, and makes them laugh.

Once the baby is asleep for the night, and Scott is showering, Tessa takes a breather and suddenly realizes what day it is. The knowledge makes her shiver, from longing and cautious excitement. She then wonders if Scott remembers it, too.

Just like that, she’s stricken by a new wave of slight insecurity when she sits at her vanity table to indulge in the application of her post-bath lotions. It’s true that her relationship with her body improved by leaps and bounds from those low times when Marina used to watch her widening thighs and developing waistline like a hawk. Now, stretch marks and - no use in hiding it - softness of flesh had replaced all of her toned elasticity. Tessa shakes her head at her reflection and reminds herself that this body shape is a blessing too, because of the outcome that is currently sleeping in the crib. Still, how would Scott react if she were to come on to him tonight? Would he even want it, or would he be tired, or just not into her new body, all things considered? Not yet?

She hears the faint buzz of his electric toothbrush, and pulls a green silk nightgown out of a drawer, before her nerves badger her into further uncertainty. She prays that it will still fit like before, and, miracle of miracles, it does, being only the tiniest bit tight across her midsection. Then, gets back into bed and makes an effort to appear casual and nonchalant. _I’m married and yet nervous like a virgin about seducing my own husband,_ her mind huffs sarcastically. She thinks back to four weeks ago, when she was so determined to jump his bones that it was he who gently advised her to stick to the doctor’s schedule. Would Scott be so careful and hesitant now? She hopes he wouldn’t, anymore. A smile curves her mouth, as she thinks, _I definitely will try as hard as I can to convince him._ As a bonus, they have relocated Rosie to a crib in her nursery, and the baby took to the change well enough. All the signs point to _yes_ for her and Scott to enjoy each other as a loving couple should.

The bathroom door opens, and Scott walks in, but stops in his tracks as soon as his gaze falls on the bed. Astonishment, curiosity, and then a slow smirk of interest all flicker across his face in turn. Tessa, smothering a giggle, thinks that he looks like he’s about to exclaim ‘Oh-ho!’ the way he did at the shooting with Hello Fresh.

“Lookin’ sexy, Virtch.” He slowly saunters over to the bed, and Tessa already blushes from the way his gaze caresses her. “Now, why am I lucky enough to see you in gorgeous green tonight?”

 _Let’s jog his memory,_ she tells herself, and turns on her side to face him with an enticing smile. “Because Rosie is six weeks old today,” she replies simply, watching his eyes for signs of recognition. Scott, who has perched himself near her, quirks his eyebrow. A second later, his face brightens with it.

_Her clever man._

“And…?” The hazel in his eyes glimmers with devilish suggestions. His peppermint breath brushes against her lips.

“And we can do whatever we want now,” Tessa breathes, sidling up to him closer and slipping her palm under the bottom of his underwear. That’s half to retaliate for his roaming hand all over her lower back, and half to reinforce her implication.

“Can we, now?” He cups the back of her head and then dips all the way for a kiss, without waiting for her to answer. His lips and tongue are as teasing as his question and Tessa can’t help but relax onto her back, pulling him up over her. His mouth shifts to her earlobe, dances over her neck, gently bites near her collarbone. And she wants. Oh, how she wants him now. Rosie’s baby monitor is quiet and peaceful, and as much as a part of Tessa wants to savor the experience, she knows that time is precious all the same.

Scott leans back a bit. His face is so flushed, and his gaze so eager already that she wants to whip her goddamn nightgown off already and let them have their way with each other.

“Are you sure?”

He sounds so caring and yet so hopeful. Tessa knows that although he undoubtedly wants her as much as she does him, his first thought is of her comfort. Ridiculously, that adds to the arousal gathering between her thighs.

“I’m sure that if you keep asking me unnecessary questions, I’m going to explode from sexual frustration,” she says, squeezing his hip for emphasis, and Scott chuckles quietly. She’s seriously amazed that she can even say such long and coherent sentences. For what it’s worth, any clear thought in her mind is soon chased away by Scott’s mouth, reclaiming its territories on her neck and shoulders; by his fingers, easing the satin straps off her.

“Tess.” His hands are radiating heat all over her bare thighs the next moment. “Please. Let me see you. Let me give you pleasure. I want to touch you so badly. All over.”

_But, her stretch marks. And less than ideal shape. And...and...and…_

Again, the self-deprecating list tapers off once Scott kisses her, and she has no choice but to melt into it, sighing and growing warmer. Thawing to the idea of letting him see her as is.

“Okay,” she says quietly, at last, and Scott glows. It only lasts an instant, and the nightgown is off her, care of his nimble fingers. Tessa fights the impulse to shrink away, to assume a position in which her less winning body parts wouldn’t be so noticeable. She’s not Scott, going to the gym religiously - even when he paused, due to Rosie’s birth, it’s not visible on his hard abs and smooth muscles.

He senses her timidity, because _soul mates._ “T? There’s nothing to be shy about. You are beautiful. Inside and out.” Great, now he has to reassure her like it might as well be their first time. Tessa strokes his hair to soothe herself.

“But I’m...different.” Her voice is so dismal saying this word, she might as well be saying _ugly._

“Yet you’re the same Tessa I know and love.” His hand moves from her cheek to rest against the soft of her belly. “This housed our baby.” The other hand cups her around the breast, and she has to moan, the way she instantly responds to him. “And this gives her food. How can all that be anything other than gorgeous?”Another rhetorical question; another kiss, deeper and truer, now that the words have begun their effect.

_He wants her. He still wants her._

“Let me show you how beautiful you are.”

Tessa doesn’t like to think of herself as desperate for validation, but she basks in Scott’s adoring words and gestures like in the most luxurious bath. But she’s tingling now all over, and every unsure opinion of herself disappears, as his palm takes its final place at the meeting of her thighs, all over her warm, wet, waiting flesh, and so gently, so thoroughly brings her to pleasure. It’s so good that she gasps, not able to draw in full breaths, because it’s like warm crackling of a fireplace, only under her skin. And Scott, oh Scott, he murmurs the sweetest and most passionate words in her ear when she regains her senses.

“Scott,” is the only thing she can whimper back to him, in overwhelming gratitude and love. She has no idea why this simple act reduces her to quite literal tears of joy. His arms are strong and sure around her, but the afterglow fades and she wants so much to reciprocate what he had done for her. He, unexpectedly, folds her tighter into his embrace.

“It’s about you tonight, T. Who am I kidding, it’s only ever about you.” But Tessa shakes her head.

“Come on, my turn,” she coaxes, and Scott almost surrenders to her palming of him through his boxers, but then, of course, the good thing they have going comes to a stop.

The baby monitor crackles alive, and a soft plaintive cry is heard. Scott rolls his eyes, and pecks her on the lips, before getting up. Her body is still under the remainder of the spell, so she watches through the screen on her phone languidly as he changes Rosie’s diaper, entertaining her with silly baby talk.

_This is my husband. My daughter. My life. It’s incredible._

When he makes his way back to her and snuggles her against him to sleep, she can’t decide whether to tell him ‘thank you’ or ‘I love you.’ Naturally, she chooses both.

 

_One year_

“Look, Rosie-posie! That’s your cake!” Scott exclaims, and Rosie turns around and lights up, prompting Tessa’s grin. She’s slowly carrying the angel-food and pink-roses creation towards their big table in the yard. As she puts it on the center, Scott can hardly keep their daughter from sticking her hands into it at once, she’s so clapping and squealing with excitement. Their various family members look on, misty-eyed. There are camera clicks heard.

“Do you want Mommy to blow out the candle with you, Rosie?” Tessa asks, hoisting her little girl up so she can be within safe but reaching distance to the colorful ‘1’ on the cake top.

The younger birthday girl frowns and pouts. “No! ‘Osie bow can.”

Tessa chuckles at this fierce independence, especially at how she actually tries to put her small hand on her mouth, as if to protect _her_ cake from usurpations.

Scott interjects, tugging one of Rosie’s tiny pigtails ever so gently. “Be nice to Mommy, kiddo. It’s her cake too, because today is your day and hers. Let her help you blow out the candle.” Yet, he says it with a smile, since the child has him wrapped around her finger irrevocably. Rosie seems to think about it, and turns to her mother with a heart-melting little smile.

“Okay. Mommy bow. ‘Osie bow,” she says.

Their brothers and Jordan start chanting ‘Wish! Wish! Wish!”

“Wiss, wiss!” Rosie pipes up, with more clapping and wriggling in happiness.

Tessa closes her eyes for a moment. She feels Scott’s arm slide around her waist, and searches her mind for an appropriate wish. _What else can I wish for? I’ve got all I want here already._

_For this joy to last me my whole life._

She opens and blows the gentlest of breaths onto the candle, as Rosie makes her own sound like “shooo!” Scott, she realizes, has been taking a selfie, photobombing the big moment with a goofy, brilliant smile.

“Happy birthday, Rosie! Happy birthday, Tessa!” rings out around the backyard. And their guests laugh and joke, and eat and drink, and make wishes, too. And Scott and Rosie never leave Tessa’s side, and this birthday of hers can’t be outdone by any other.

 

_One year and nine months_

It’s a table again, and candles, too, only without the cake and in elegant porcelain holders. It’s an intimate dinner with wine (for him) and cranberry juice (for her, though he probably won’t tell until she admits). For everyone else, today is all about hearts, arrows that pierce them, and chocolate in every permutation known to humanity. For them, it’s about to become the first page of a brand-new chapter of their always fascinating narrative.

Tessa moves around her living room, putting on the finishing touches. Rosie is right there, and she doesn’t forget about her baby girl, coming by with a kiss and a few sweet words here and there. Her daughter might not understand her impending new role, but for now, Tessa is happy to let her stay in her playpen, before Scott returns from the rink. Well, he’s in for a different Valentine’s Day, for sure.

As a complete shock to herself, it was she who had suggested they could try for a sibling for Rosie back in November. The little girl was growing up healthy, cheerful, and smart, and Tessa was stricken with the sweet heartache of her baby being, well, less and less baby-like every day. She wanted another child, and she shared it with Scott. The look on his face was so hilariously joyful that she came close to taking a picture for Instagram. Now, the plans are set in stone. Tessa takes Rosie out of the playpen and cuddles her on the couch for a moment.

“You’ll always be my baby,” she tells the child softly. “Mommy’s baby girl.”

“Mommy baby,” Rosie echoes. _You’ve got that right_ , Tessa mentally agrees. The mother-daughter moment is interrupted by the clicking open of the door, but she doesn’t mind, loving the way Rosie exuberantly welcomes Scott back home every evening.

“Hi, kiddo!” He swings her up into his arms, kissing her cheeks. “How’s my little rose?”

“Me Mommy baby,” his daughter tells him. Scott gasps.

“Are you Mommy’s baby? You’re Daddy’s baby, too!” They walk into the living room, where Scott wastes no time coming up to Tessa for a kiss.

“Wow. Quite the romantic evening this is,” he says, smiling appreciatively at the spread. “And with a beautiful woman and our adorable baby, no less.”

“All for us,” Tessa grins, hugging them tighter. Rosie, too grasps at his his hair and giggles when he kisses her pert little nose.

“Let me go wash my hands. Can’t put germs on such pretty girls.” He winks, and then his departure gives Tessa time to take several breaths and give herself one last pep talk.

During dinner, Scott is taken aback when Tessa passes up wine for cranberry juice, but doesn’t seem on to her surprise. Which makes it that much more exciting. But then the evening wears on, and Rosie is sleepily snuggled on their laps on the couch, and a peaceful, comfortable silence settles in. Tessa clears her throat softly.

“So...you know how Rosie said ‘me Mommy baby’ to you? As in, Mommy’s baby?” Scott hums and passes a tender hand over the little girl’s hair. “She’s right you know?”

“She might be Mommy’s baby, but she’s all me,” he teases, kissing her temple. “Except her eyes. Her beautiful green eyes, just like Mommy.”

“But she was right about another thing. She just described who was waiting for you today.” Tessa looks up, eye to eye with her husband. “Me, Mommy, and baby. As in, she’s not the only baby now.”

Scott’s eyes widen. He looks at her like he sees her for the first time.

Her heart beats so loudly, she’s almost scared about it waking up Rosie, but then he exclaims, _“Seriously?”_ in a cross between a whisper and a shout, and his grin takes over his stunned first expression. Tessa doesn’t restrain her happy tears, letting him lavish kisses onto her face with his own emotional response.

“That’s...T...that’s incredible...magnificent...God, another baby…” He sounds half delirious from happiness. Rosie cracks her eyes open at the commotion. She yawns, and the parents, still glowing, direct their attention to her.

“Do you want to go beddie bye, Rosie-posie?” Tessa asks, sniffing a bit, but with the most joyful of tears.

“Beddie,” she confirms, yawning again.

“Let Daddy get you to bed, honey,” Scott says, and gathers her close, but before he can, Rosie wriggles back to Tessa.

“Night, Mommy. Night, baby,” she babbles sleepily, kissing Tessa’s abdomen twice. She and Scott exchange amazed looks.

“How did she figure it out?”

“Never mind she, how didn’t _I_ figure it out?” Scott muses, his grin having gone nowhere. “I knew something was happening when you refused wine!”

“A small price to pay for the surprise, huh?” Tessa asks, and gets up herself. “We should go put our future big sister to bed now.”

“I want to kiss you and shout it from the rooftops that we’re having another baby, and maybe pop open a hundred bottles of champagne - but hey, sensible Virtch outlined the priority.” It earns him a playful shove, though Tessa knows there’s no one quite like him - not even she sometimes nowadays - to make Rosie settle down for sleep at night.

Scott makes good on his promise of later kissing and otherwise telling her of his feelings on the matter. Very good indeed.

 

Later, as the Valentine candles burn out, and Tessa is buzzed off joy and love and contentment like wine never did to her before Scott, she knows one thing.

She’d gotten the one thing she never actively wished for, not on the ice rinks, not before competitions, not while it was all so uncertain and anxious between them. The realization that her life brought her to this moment, Scott’s arms, her daughter in the room next door, and a second child taking shape inside her can be defined by just one thing.

Life for her reached harmony, in all the ordinary and extraordinary ways.

 


End file.
